


There at Your Side

by brianmay_be



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Roger smokes like a chimney, Sharing a Bed, and they were soulmates (oh my god they were soulmates), freddie sings love of my life to roger, they find comfort in each other (of course), they're both so soft and cuddly, they're stressed out about the tour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 13:37:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20640050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brianmay_be/pseuds/brianmay_be
Summary: Roger put his hand over Freddie’s and drew it down to rest on his knee, gently twining their fingers together. “I’m sorry you had a nightmare, Fred.”Freddie gave Roger’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry you had one too. But… it’s nice to not have to go it alone.”Roger smiled. “Yeah, it is.”ORFreddie wakes up with his first nightmare in years only to find that Roger’s been having them night after night. Both are afraid to try to go back to sleep, but they find that the nightmares don’t seem as scary in each other’s arms.





	There at Your Side

Freddie woke with a jerk, his breath catching in his chest as the sensation of falling shocked through his whole body. He was tangled in something; in the darkness, his mind conjured crushed pavement and sparking wires and rubble instead of bedsheets. He scrambled to free himself from it, clawing through the blankets like some kind of crazed animal as he got out of bed. As soon as he was on his feet he realized what had happened; the nightmare wasn’t real. He was fine. He was in his hotel room, perfectly safe.

“Jesus, Fred, you ok?”

Freddie startled at the voice, snapping his head up from the rumpled sheets to the balcony to see Roger, a cigarette glowing dimly in his hand as he gave Freddie a worried look.

“Yes, I - ” Freddie was surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded. “I’m fine. Sorry.”

Before Roger could say anything else, Freddie made his escape to the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face and trying to steady his breathing. He caught a glimpse of his reflection as he dried his face; he looked pale and exhausted. He sighed and braced his hands on the counter; they shook with residual fear as adrenaline coursed through his system.

There was a soft knock on the door. “Freddie?”

Freddie sighed. “What?”

A pause. “Can I come in?”

Freddie gave a ghost of a laugh. “Pushy, aren’t you, Rog?”

Roger opened the door and came to Freddie’s side, hesitantly reaching to brush Freddie’s hair back from his face. Freddie didn’t protest; Roger’s love language was touch, and this was his way of trying to soothe and comfort Freddie without knowing what was wrong.

“Are you sick?” Roger asked.

Freddie shook his head. “No, I… just, bad dreams. That’s all.”

“Oh,” Roger said softly.

Freddie felt a dull flush of embarrassment. “Silly of me to get so worked up. I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Roger said quickly. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. It’s not silly. Well, I hope it’s not silly. I’ve been having bad dreams too.”

Freddie turned to look at Roger face to face and saw how tired the blonde was, an almost haunted look behind the exhaustion in his face. “Really?”

Roger’s laugh was mirthless. “Yeah. All the time.” He shook his head and stuck his hand under the collar of his t-shirt, running his fingers over his collarbone in a signature effort to self-soothe that Freddie had seen him do countless times. “I think it’s the stress, you know? All this… anxiety, I guess. About shows and everything.”

Freddie guessed that made sense, though he hadn’t given it much though before now. He could barely remember the last time he’d had a nightmare; he’d been a child, finding his way into his mother’s arms for comfort. To wake up in an unfamiliar bed in a foreign city with a fear that seemed much worse than it had when he was a boy had shaken Freddie more than he wanted to admit.

“Is… is that why you’re up?” Freddie asked.

Roger hummed in agreement, running his hand up and down Freddie’s arm. The touch was soothing, and Freddie was glad Roger was there.

“You’re shivering, love,” Roger said, seemingly less concerned about his own nightmares than Freddie was. “Are you cold?”

“I don’t…. Rog, couldn’t you get back to sleep?” Freddie pressed. The slight chill was the last thing on his mind right now. He felt guilty that he hadn’t even known Roger was up, and he felt even worse that he hadn’t noticed Roger was having nightmares at all.

Roger sighed. “I haven’t tried, to be honest. I know I won’t be able to settle.”

Freddie imagined trying to sleep now, with the adrenaline still flooding through his system, his heartbeat still running a mile a minute from the nightmare that still seemed so real.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. 

Roger patted Freddie’s hand. “Hey,” he said, in that voice that meant _it’ll be alright_. “Come on. You want a cigarette?”

“I… I don’t want to go out on the balcony,” Freddie said.

Roger looked a little confused but didn’t press it. “Okay,” he said. “We can just sit by the door, if you want.”

Freddie followed Roger out of the bathroom, sitting cross-legged on the bright orange carpet as Roger went out to the balcony to retrieve his pack of Marlboro Reds and the ashtray dusted with evidence of his recent smoking. He left the sliding glass door open and set the ashtray down, grabbing his soft blue jumper off the back of the chair to hand to Freddie as he sat down next to him. Freddie pulled the jumper over his head, breathing in Roger’s comforting scent; Roger’s knee rested against against Freddie’s as he fished a cigarette out of the pack.

“Do you have nightmares a lot, too?” Roger asked around his cigarette, handing Freddie the carton. He flicked the lighter he wore on a bit of string around his neck to light his cigarette, leaning over to Freddie to light his without taking the makeshift necklace off.

“This is the first one I’ve had in…. well, ages,” Freddie said, taking a slow drag.

Roger blew out a thin stream of smoke in the general direction of the balcony. “I didn’t use to have them,” he said. “They only started when we went on tour. The worst ones are always the night before a concert.”

Freddie considered that. “Do you think it’s nerves?”

Roger shrugged. “I guess.”

They sat in silence for a little while, listening to the sound of cars driving down the street, burning their cigarettes down to the filter, the comfort of sitting together and hearing each breath in the darkness enough to ease their shaky hands and stuttering heartbeats.

“I dreamed about the balcony,” Freddie said softly. “I dreamed I went out to see something on the street… I don’t remember what it was, but suddenly the balcony just crumbled, and I was falling, and then I was on the pavement, trapped under the rubble.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s why I made a right mess of the bed, you know; I thought it was the concrete and wires and everything.”

“No wonder you didn’t want to have a smoke out there.”

Freddie gave a dry laugh. “Yeah.”

Roger put his first cigarette out in the ashtray and lit another. “I dreamed I was drinking a Coke and the bottle shattered, and somehow the glass got down my throat and cut me to ribbons from the inside.”

Freddie winced. “Jesus.”

“I know.” He shook his head. “It’s the same one I had last night.”

Freddie felt a shock of distress. “You had one last night too?”

“It’s not a big deal, Fred. I’m ok.”

“Nonsense,” Freddie insisted. “Roger, darling, I… I’m sorry. I really had no idea. I wish you would have woken me. Last night or any night before that.”

Roger gave him a sad smile. “And kept you up all hours too?” he asked. “You’re barely getting enough sleep as it is.”

“Oh, you know me,” Freddie said lightly. “Always running on two hours’ sleep and three shots of vodka.” 

He took the second cigarette that Roger lit for him. “Promise me you’ll wake me, next time.”

Roger sighed. “Fred - ”

“No, no, you must promise,” Freddie said, gentle but firm. “And if you don’t, I’ll never sleep again, and you’ll have to explain to Deaky and Bri why I’ve wasted away.”

Roger gave a gentle laugh. “Okay, alright.” He met Freddie’s eyes. “I promise.”

Freddie smiled. “There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

Roger studied Freddie’s face, the kindness and love he found there always surprising Roger a bit in its ease and abundance. Freddie was a giver, and even in his own pain, he was more focused on Roger.

“Thank you,” Roger said.

“Whatever for, darling?” Freddie said sweetly. He tucked Roger’s hair behind his ear. “I’m always here, you know. It’s always…” He shrugged and smiled. “It’s just me. I just do what I can.”

Roger leaned into Freddie’s touch. “Just you is just perfect, Fred.”

Freddie’s cheeks pinked as he laughed. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”

Roger put his hand over Freddie’s and drew it down to rest on his knee, gently twining their fingers together. “I’m sorry you had a nightmare, Fred.”

Freddie gave Roger’s hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry you had one too. But… it’s nice to not have to go it alone.”

Roger smiled. “Yeah, it is.”

Freddie’s gaze was impossibly gentle, and Roger felt he could endure a thousand more nightmares just to be there for Freddie when he had one. Freddie’s gaze traveled over Roger’s tired and beautiful features, and he wished he could do more for Roger; he wished he could take all that fear and exhaustion for him.

“Come,” Freddie said, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray.

Roger raised a brow but followed when Freddie stood, their hands still entwined. “Where are we going?”

Freddie gave a soft laugh. “Bed, you goose. We’re going to be bloody miserable in the morning if we don’t get at least a few hours’ sleep.”

Roger bit his lip. “I dunno, Fred, I…”

He didn’t say anything else, but Freddie knew what was wrong; he felt the same apprehension. He was wary of falling asleep again for fear of having another nightmare.

“Hey,” Freddie said, trying to ground Roger. “Just try for me, ok? If you can’t sleep, just… just rest. Lay with me and try to rest, alright?”

Roger gave an exasperated sigh, though he couldn’t hide his affection. “Fine.”

Freddie’s smile alone was worth giving in. “Lovely. Come on, then.”

They straightened out Freddie’s sheets before slipping under the covers, facing each other as their legs tangled together.

“Freddie!” Roger said with a laugh. “Your feet are freezing!”

“But you’re so warm,” Freddie cooed. He hooked his leg over Roger’s and drew the blonde closer; Roger draped an arm over Freddie’s thigh, tucking his hand under Freddie’s jumper and tracing patterns on his hip.

“You promise you’ll wake me if you have another nightmare,” Freddie said, though it was more of a question.

“Yes, Fred. I promise. And you’ll wake me if you do.”

Freddie brushed Roger’s soft blonde locks back from his face. “I don’t think I’ll have any more,” he said. “Not with you next to me.”

Roger smiled. “I hope not. You need your rest.”

Freddie put his hand tenderly to Roger’s cheek, tracing his thumb over the light dusting of freckles that were only noticeable when you were very close to him. “So do you,” he said. “You’ll try, won’t you? For me?”

“Oh, Freddie,” Roger said with a contented sigh. “I’d do just about anything for you, you know that.”

Freddie’s thumb wandered to Roger’s mouth, brushing over his bottom lip. “I’ll sing to you, if you think it might help.”

Roger smiled and kissed Freddie’s fingers. “Yes, please.” He gave such a cute yawn that Freddie couldn’t help but smile. “What are you gonna sing?”

Freddie tangled his fingers in Roger’s hair once more, gently combing through the golden waves. He was pleased to see Roger relaxing under his touch, his face softening with the tiredness he was fighting.

“A little something I’ve been working on,” Freddie said softly. “You’re the first to hear it.”

Roger snuggled closer to Freddie, tucking his head under Freddie’s chin; Freddie put his arm over Roger’s shoulder and held him close.

“I’m honored,” Roger said. Freddie could hear the smile in his voice.

“As well you should be,” Freddie teased. “Now, hush and let me sing for you so you can tell me how horrible it is.”

Roger’s laugh was warm against Freddie’s collar. “Okay.”

Freddie drew his fingers gently up and down Roger’s back, watching the way the stars managed to peek through the cloudy night sky. 

“_You will remember when this is blown over, and everything’s all by the way; when I grow older, I will be there at your side to remind you how I still love you_.”

He kissed Roger’s forehead. “I still love you.”

Roger mumbled something Freddie couldn’t quite make out, but he didn’t mind his song’s unceremonious reception. He’d sing it again for Roger, as many times as he wanted, when Roger didn’t need sleep as much as he did now. Freddie only smiled at the blonde’s sleepy response, happy to know that his singing had done the trick.

“Goodnight, Roger,” he said gently.

Roger gave a contented sigh, safe in the arms of the one who loved him most. Even if he did have nightmares again, Freddie would be there, and Freddie would never let the darkness get him. 

“Love you,” he mumbled, already nearly asleep.

Freddie’s smile could have lit up the room. “Me too, my darling,” he said softly. “Me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, come see my on my tumblr, @brianmay-be!


End file.
